


Fever

by Alexwritesfics



Series: Alex's Drabble Challenge [2]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Poor Andy, Sick Fic, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 06:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4656597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexwritesfics/pseuds/Alexwritesfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy isn't ill, dammit. Thomas thinks otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever

**Author's Note:**

> I went over the word limit D: I know it's meant to be a challenge but it's hard to limit myself creatively. How about I just use 500 words as a general guideline. Anyway, here's a sick fic with Thomas being all caring and stuff (all that gross gooey emotional stuff toy usually get from me lmao)

It had started as a persistent sniff, before the colour had started to drain from Andy's face. Carson began to note how inattentive Andy was becoming when it came to performing his daily tasks. Thomas felt increasingly worried for the poor footman - though when they lay together in Andy's bed each night, the younger man insisted he was feeling perfectly fine. Thomas quietly persisted, giving Andy any extra bread off his own plate from mealtimes to keep Andy's strength up. Thomas' efforts were futile - Andy had lost his appetite. For six days straight Andy continued to look sleepy and uncomfortable, before the morning finally came when he found himself too ill to get himself down to breakfast.

Thomas had been the one to search for him. He'd found the lad lying on the bed, half changed into his now-wrinkled livery.

'...Andy?' Thomas ventured.

He got a mere groan as a reply.

'Are you feeling alright?' Thomas asked, a prickle of worry travelling down his spine.

Again, another groan; softer this time.

'Let me check your temperature...' Thomas said softly, sitting down on the bed next to his lover.

'I'm... I'm not ill, Thomas,' Andy managed, though his voice sounded raspy and strained.

'Hush,' Thomas said, running his fingers through Andy's sweat-slicked curls. 'Trust my diagnosis. I trained in the army, you know.'

'N-Not for a little cold...'

'Ahah. So you _do_ admit it. You're ill.'

'I'm not ill...'

'Hush, I said.' Thomas felt Andy's burning forehead and looked into Andy's eyes. They were too bright, and his cheeks were far too red. 'I knew something wasn't quite right when I left for my room last night. Oh, Andy... why didn't you tell me?'

Andy gave a wheeze that sounded halfway between a sneeze and a cough before speaking again. '...I'm not a little boy Thomas. I don't n-need you to coddle me.'

'...Is that what this is about?'

There was silence as Andy blinked slowly through his fever-filled haze.

'Everyone gets ill, Andy,' Thomas said softly. 'It doesn't mean anything. I don't think any less of you. Would you... Would you think any less of me?'

'N-No.'

'Exactly. Now hush with that silliness and let me take care of you. I do love you, you know.'

'...I love you too.' Andy coughed before saying: 'M-My stomach hurts.'

'Are you going to be sick?' Thomas said, feeling that same prickle of worry again.

'N-No, but I feel rotten...' Andy groaned again.

'I'll get someone to send up some tea - it'll calm your stomach down. You'd better get undressed again. And get right back under the covers, d'ya hear me?'

Andy sighed. 'Yes, sir...'

~*~

Thomas returned to find Andy undressed and under the covers as promised. The footman was slumbering for the time being.

He was visibly shivering. Sweat trickled down his forehead and made his hair shimmer. His cheeks were near-rouge, and he was flushed to the very tips of his ears.

_He must have been suffering a while..._

Thomas knew what it was like to soldier on through pain and discomfort, and he didn't want Andy to have to bear a burden just to prove himself as a man.

'I hope you know what you mean to me,' Thomas said quietly, setting down the tray of tea - which he'd felt the need to bring up by himself - and dabbing delicately at Andy's face with a fresh cloth.

Thomas kissed Andy's burning forehead. He never wanted to see this precious man in pain.


End file.
